


talkin' love (lay the roses on the floor)

by crankipli3r



Series: Who Kidnapped Markiplier? [4]
Category: CrankGameplays - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Birthday Sex, Blowjobs, Fluff, Frottage, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Spaaaaaaaaaaaace, heh, mark is still loud during sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2020-04-11 22:34:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19119058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crankipli3r/pseuds/crankipli3r
Summary: As much as Mark had been looking forward to an intimate night in with Ethan, suddenly he can’t think of anything better than dressing up and eating snooty Italian food with him. “You look incredible,” Mark murmurs, kissing Ethan’s jaw. “You didn’t have to do that, y’know.”“I know.” Ethan loops his arms around Mark’s neck and smiles even wider. “I wanted to, you dork. We’ve been together for, like, almost three months now and we haven’t really gone on a ‘real’ date. So I figured … what better night to go out than your birthday?”------It's Mark's 29th birthday and Ethan has many special things planned. While it isn't all sunshine and roses all day, it turns out better than either of them could've imagined.





	talkin' love (lay the roses on the floor)

**Author's Note:**

> it's me again! thanks so much for your kind comments and patience. welcome back to the stage our poor traumatized hero and his supportive blue bf. sorry for the long break between updates -- i wasn't sure where to go next with our boys, but this idea finally came to me from a friend's suggestion. i think i'll be quicker with the next part, hopefully :)
> 
> the palermo restaurant and griffith observatory are both real places in L.A. yes i googled romantic things to do in L.A. for this fic. yes i mapped out the route from the restaurant to the observatory. and yes i looked at the actual view of L.A. from the observatory via google street view. i'm a #professional.
> 
> a couple liberties i took:  
> 1\. the griffith observatory website says there's an attendant to help people operate the zeiss telescope. that guy doesn't exist in this story.  
> 2\. i dont focus much on the low-key birthday party at the beginning of the story just bc it's not as important as the stuff that happens after. self-indulgent.  
> 3\. I DON'T KNOW WHERE MARK LIVES. nor do i want to. so how long it would take to drive from the observatory to his house is completely unknown to me. i imagine it to be not super far from downtown L.A., though.  
> 4\. i don't think mark has a backyard, even though i say he does in the fic. no one probably cares about this, but it annoys me, so i'm pointing it out.
> 
> title from "11 minutes" by halsey and yungblood again. hope you enjoy <3
> 
> p.s. there's a link in the story. click it if you want your heart to burst.

Mark’s 29th birthday is, at its essence, a celebration of him still being alive. He understands this as soon as his mom starts crying during the annual birthday phone call.

“We almost lost you,” she sobs softly from her living room in Cincinnati, probably with Maggie clutched to her chest. “I’m so glad you’re still here. Don’t ever scare anyone like that again.”

As much as Mark wants to remind her what happened in Boston was out of his control, he knows that’s not what she needs to hear. “I won’t, I promise,” he says, low and even, forcing the words past the lump in his throat. “I’m not going anywhere, mom. I … thanks for calling. I miss you.”

Bob and Wade’s relief is more subtle during their calls, but it’s there, and Mark bites back more tears when Bob tells him how happy he is to be his friend. _God._ Mark had known today would be emotional, but he’s already exhausted from trying to keep a strong face and it’s only 11 a.m.

“Mark?” Ethan asks when he walks in on Mark drying his eyes with the backs of his hands. He walks over to the couch and sits down next to him, face pinched with concern. “What’s wrong?”

As always, Mark can’t help but quirk a small smile at the younger man’s mere presence. “Nothing, babe.” He sniffles and shakes his head vigorously for a moment, collecting himself. “I just got off the phone with Bob and he said some sappy shit, ‘s all. After hearing it from Mom and Wade, I guess the dam just burst.”

Ethan nods in understanding and takes Mark’s hand, lacing their fingers together in that perfectly natural way they’ve become so familiar with. Mark marvels once more at how lucky he is to have Ethan by his side almost every day. “It’s okay,” Ethan soothes. “They just want you to know how much they care. Even though it’s been almost three months … sometimes it still feels like three hours.”

“You’re telling me,” Mark sighs and leans back in the couch, pulling Ethan with him. “I wish I could just erase it from everyone’s memories.” He hides his face in Ethan’s warm neck, curling into the smallest ball he can against his boyfriend’s side. “Selfishly, I want it gone from mine the most.”

“That’s not selfish,” Ethan murmurs as he turns to press a kiss into Mark’s dark curls. “It’s normal. Even though it was agonizing to see you getting hurt like that,   _you’re_ the one who actually went through it.”

“Yeah.” Mark lifts his head after a few heartbeats to kiss Ethan gently on the mouth. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Ethan replies easily, nuzzling Mark’s nose. “Now c’mon. Amy and Kathryn are gonna be here soon with the cake, and Tyler’s gonna want to dig in right away. We should get the kitchen set up.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Mark acquiesces finally. He leans in for another kiss, this one firmer and lingering longer. Ethan responds beautifully, as always, melting and tangling a hand in Mark’s hair. Mark can’t help but shiver a little as he adds, “Part of me wishes we could just spend the day in bed together.”

Ethan chuckles, but there’s a note of heat behind it that makes Mark’s stomach quiver. “I kinda wish we could, too,” he says, nipping at Mark’s lower lip. “I’d have so many presents to give you.”

Mark whines a bit and tips his head back as Ethan tugs his shirt collar down a few inches. “Consider this the first one,” Ethan says with a low growl as he latches on to the tan skin and sucks a dark hickey there.

“Fuck,” Mark gasps once the quarter-sized bruise is good and purple. He grabs the back of Ethan’s neck and hauls him up for another kiss. “Keep it up and I’m gonna call the others and tell them not to come.”

Ethan kisses back with just as much urgency, breaking away after a minute or so. His eyes are dark and his mouth is deliciously red; it’s a miracle Mark doesn’t tackle him back against the couch cushions. “Can’t have that,” he says, blatantly staring at Mark’s own reddened lips. “Let’s go, uh … wash some dishes.”

“Good plan.”

 

* * *

 

 

The “party” is low-key but still fun. That’s really all Mark wanted for his birthday this year — something quiet and understated, but still enjoyable for everyone involved. Amy and Kathryn give him two huge hugs (he’s so happy he can return them without the healed stab wound in his side hurting) and Tyler stays with him for most of the afternoon. The taller man has developed the habit of almost never letting Mark out of his sight when they’re together, which Mark appreciates, but it can get a bit smothering at times. For today, though, Mark lets it slide.

They have chicken and dumplings for lunch, courtesy of Tyler, then dig into the marble cake as they settle down to watch a movie. Mark picks “Terminator” just because he wants to annoy his friends with his Schwarzenegger impressions for two hours, and they don’t mind. He stays cozied up to Ethan on the couch during the whole movie, much to Tyler’s amusement.

“Do the two of you ever sit more than three inches apart?” he asks with a laugh as he and Kathryn gather up the disposable plates and forks after the movie. “You’re gonna suffocate each other.”

“Mmm, don’t care,” Mark says, burrowing further into Ethan’s chest. He’s practically lying on top of the smaller man, arms wrapped tightly around his middle. A steady hand is carding through Mark’s hair, and he can’t help but let his eyes flutter shut at the sensation.

“I’ve done this until he’s fallen asleep before,” Ethan says, voice quiet and soothing. Mark’s body tingles. “He’s like a big cat.”

“I take that as a compliment.” Mark opens his eyes and cranes his neck up to kiss Ethan gently.

Once everything’s cleaned up, Mark hugs Tyler, Amy, and Kathryn goodbye and thanks them again for stopping by. He’s glad they weren’t offended by his requests for no gifts or craziness. They all leave happy, which is all Mark could’ve asked for.

Finally, he’s alone with Ethan again. Smirking a bit, he turns around from the door — only to find Ethan’s no longer in the living room. “Eth?” Mark calls, waking over and looking around in confusion. “Babe, where’d you go?”

“I’m up here!” comes the echoey reply.

Mark smirks again — he can tell Ethan’s in his bedroom. “Oh really?” he asks, making his way to the staircase. “Someone’s eager. You gonna give me another present?”

“Something like that.” Ethan’s low laugh sends a shock of warmth through Mark’s stomach, and he hurries up the stairs.

The last thing Mark’s expecting is to see Ethan stepping out of the bedroom in a fitted black three-piece suit with a dark blue bowtie. Mark stops in his tracks, eyes wide and jaw slack, to take in the image of Ethan’s perfectly-styled hair and shined dress shoes.

Shrugging, Ethan looks down at himself and fidgets with the top button on his waistcoat. “How do I look?” he asks softly, and he even has the nerve to _blush_ like he’s genuinely unaware of how hot he is.

Mark doesn’t even say anything. He just strides up, presses Ethan against the doorframe, and kisses him breathless. Ethan’s clearly not expecting that reaction — his hands flail a bit before settling on Mark’s waist, fingers curling into his grey Cloak prototype crewneck. Mark holds Ethan’s face in his hands and kisses him like they’ve been apart for a month, licking into his mouth with urgency and clear intent.

When the kiss breaks, Mark rests their foreheads together and pants, “Please tell me you’re my next present.”

Ethan whines and hesitates for a few seconds before shaking his head. “Not quite,” he murmurs, running his shaking hands up and down Mark’s sides. “But I guess I’m part of it. I, uh, made us dinner reservations.”

Ah. So that explains the suit. Mark leans back a few inches and blinks in surprise, a smile slowly spreading across his face. “You did?”

Ethan nods, hands now resting on Mark’s broad chest. “It’s at a place called Palermo. Well, technically it’s called _Palermo Ristorante Italiano.”_ He licks his lips and quirks a sheepish smile. “I may have purchased this suit from Men’s Warehouse specifically for tonight.”

As much as Mark had been looking forward to an intimate night in with Ethan, suddenly he can’t think of anything better than dressing up and eating snooty Italian food with him. “You look incredible,” Mark murmurs, kissing Ethan’s jaw. “You didn’t have to do that, y’know.”

“I know.” Ethan loops his arms around Mark’s neck and smiles even wider. “I wanted to, you dork. We’ve been together for, like, almost three months now and we haven’t really gone on a ‘real’ date. So I figured … what better night to go out than your birthday?”

Mark just stares at him, realizing after a few seconds that he’s right. Most of their time together has been spent at one of their homes — Mark’s usually — and consisted of movies, meals, naps, and conversation. For the last couple of weeks, there’s even been sex. It’s been wonderful, of course; so wonderful Mark hadn’t even realized the lack of actual dates. He feels a little bad, and he sighs, nuzzling Ethan’s neck.

Ethan just sighs right back and flicks Mark’s ear. “Don’t you dare start feeling guilty,” he reprimands, because of course he knows. “There’s valid reasons why we’ve kept a low profile. And we don’t have to stop now — I just wanted to treat you tonight, that’s all.”

Mark pulls back to meet Ethan’s eyes and shakes his head in awe, heart skipping. “Have I told you lately you’re the best thing to ever happen to me?” he asks, reverent and sincere.

“Not since yesterday.” Ethan pecks Mark on the lips and gives his cheeks a pat before gently pulling away. “Now go get dressed. You’re not going to dinner in a crewneck and sweats while I look like this.”

Mark snorts and nods. “Damn straight.” He kisses Ethan’s cheek before backing up into his bedroom. “I know I’ve got a suit somewhere in my closet. Just you wait — you won’t be able to keep your hands off me.”

“You’re one to talk,” Ethan chuckles as Mark closes the door. “I think my back’s bruised from the doorframe.”

Mark just laughs and strides over to his closet. Against the left wall, his suit and shirt from Wade’s wedding is hanging up in a zipped dry cleaning bag. _That’ll do,_ he thinks and takes it out.

As he gets dressed, Mark can’t help the way his fingertips buzz with excitement at the thought of finally going on a formal date with Ethan. The younger man has seen Mark dressed up before — he’s seen Mark in this very suit, in fact — but it’s never been _for him._ They’d almost gone to dinner together in Boston, but the whole world knows why that didn’t pan out. _This will finally make up for it,_ Mark thinks as he shucks his sweatpants and slips on the crisp white dress shirt.

He catches a glimpse of himself in the mirrored surface of the closet door as he’s buttoning the shirt and pauses to look himself over. The scars on his torso are less noticeable than they’d been even two weeks ago, but god, they’re hard to miss. Mottled burns and a deep slash down his chest stare at Mark from the mirror, and the stab wound adds its own grotesque grin to the picture. Mark sighs and runs a hand across his skin _(ugly)_ wondering for the five millionth time _(broken)_ how Ethan can look at him with such deep desire and love _(grotesque)_ when _that_ is what’s looking back.

 _(Gorgeous)_ Mark eventually focuses on Ethan’s voice in his head _(beautiful)_ as he continues to button the shirt _(sexy)_ and tells himself _(perfect)_ to keep going.

Once he’s fully dressed and his hair is styled into something better than the weird bedhead-esque look he’s been rocking all day, Mark takes a final glance at himself, straightens his red tie and pocket square, and leaves the bedroom to meet Ethan downstairs.

Ethan jumps up from the couch where he’d been petting Chica and stares, blue eyes glittering, as Mark enters the living room. “…Wow,” he breathes, seemingly speechless.

Mark blushes and rolls his eyes, fiddling with a cufflink. “You’ve seen me like this before,” he says even as his heart pounds.

“Yeah, but I’ve never been allowed to really _look,”_ Ethan points out. He walks over to Mark and rests his hands on the older man’s chest, tracing the jacket’s lapels with his thumbs. Something like adoration shines in his wide eyes as they flit up to meet Mark’s. “You’re stunning,” he murmurs, soft, like he’s saying it for the first time.

Mark’s heart swells three times its size. For a moment he sees the eager, nervous teenager with a vlog camera he’d [ met ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UGQHz_ndJNk) four years ago and feels a surge of affection nearly knock him over. Mark wraps his arms around Ethan’s waist and hauls him in for a deep kiss, trying to transfer every feeling he’s ever felt towards Ethan through that small point of contact. He’s always drowning in his love for Ethan, but it’s not every day he gets overwhelmed by it, lets it wash over him so Ethan’s the only thing his senses are aware of.

“I love you,” Mark whispers against Ethan’s kiss-bitten lips a minute or so later. “God, I love you.”

“I know,” Ethan says on the end of a shuddering exhale. His fingertips flutter at the back of Mark’s neck and his own jacket sleeves rasp against Mark’s shoulders as they embrace. “I love you too.”

They linger like that for another minute, reveling in each other, until Mark carefully pulls away and grips Ethan’s hands. “If we don’t leave now,” he jokes with a tinge of seriousness, “I’m not gonna want to leave at all.”

“Our reservations are for five thirty,” Ethan says, checking his watch. His brow furrows as he does some mental calculations. “Mmm … yeah, we should probably get going. Traffic is gonna be a nightmare.”

“Isn’t it always?” Mark brings one of Ethan’s hands to his lips and kisses his knuckles. “Somehow I think I’ll survive.”

Ethan blushes and leans in to kiss Mark one more time before nodding resolutely. “Let’s head out, then. I’ll drive, since I know where we’re going and _you_ still aren’t allowed to lift a finger, Birthday Boy.”

Mark laughs and kisses Ethan’s temple as he turns to walk to the front door. _Jesus, I’m in love._

 

* * *

 

The food at Palermo is ridiculously good — and ridiculously expensive. _$21 for a plate of pasta?!_ Mark thinks incredulously as he peruses the menu. _Fuck California, man._ To his chagrin, Ethan insists on paying for everything — “It’s your goddamn birthday, moron! Let me do this for you!” — so Mark tries to keep his order as cheap as possible. As good as the veal dishes look, he sticks to tortellini, and Ethan splurges for the chicken parmigiana.

“Bet you’re disappointed they don’t have pineapple pizza,” Mark teases as he pointedly ignores the tempting wine list. Ethan throws a balled-up napkin at him.

As they’re laughing over the bruschetta appetizer and sipping their (non-alcoholic) drinks, Mark can’t help but think that he hasn’t been this happy since before Boston. He’s eating great food in a fancy Italian restaurant with his perfect boyfriend sitting across the table from him, and the world seems utterly radiant. Nothing could ruin this night for them, he thinks.

Of course, if something seems too good to be true, it almost always is.

It happens just as they’re finishing their main dishes and debating whether tiramisu or chocolate cake would be a better dessert. Mark’s dabbing tomato sauce from the corner of his mouth when he feels a gentle tap on his shoulder. He turns around to find a pretty teenage girl in a sundress beaming at him, wringing her hands in front of herself and bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Um, h-hi, Mark!” she stammers with a tentative wave, shifting her smile to Ethan as she fidgets with her long brown hair. “And Ethan!”

Instantly realizing she’s a fan looking for a hug and a picture, Mark smiles wide and greets her cheerfully. Even though he’s mildly annoyed at being interrupted, he’s patient and kind with the girl — Kaylie, he finds out — and listens as she tells him how important his “coming out” video from last week was to her. Mark’s read thousands of supportive tweets and even met a few LGBT+ fans since he and Ethan publicly announced their relationship in that video, and each one has had their own touching story of resilience and courage. Kaylie’s is no different, and Mark can’t help but hug her by the time she’s done speaking.

The three of them take a couple selfies together, and Kaylie even apologizes for the interruption afterwards. Just when Mark thinks she’s about to leave, Kaylie’s face turns somber and she asks him, “How are you doing, by the way? I know it’s only been a couple months since the whole kidnapping thing.”

Just like that, images and sounds Mark’s successfully managed to block out for most of the day come flooding back into his mind. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Ethan’s smile grow thin and tense, and his own hands start to shake.

“Um, well, I have good days and bad days,” Mark says, hoping his smile still looks friendly. “It’s still gonna take some time until I’m, like, completely past it.” _Fuck, is it getting hot in here?_

Kaylie nods solemnly, like she knows exactly how he feels, what he’s been through. “Yeah, that’s understandable,” she says. “I was in a car accident a couple years ago and I didn’t want to get back in a car for weeks afterwards. It’s tough.”

“Y-Yeah, it is.” The collar of Mark’s shirt suddenly feels too tight. He clears his throat and blinks a couple times, loosening his tie. “I don’t really like dark rooms or, or rickety wood chairs very much after … everything.”

Suddenly there’s a hand on Mark’s forearm and Ethan’s saying crisply, “He’s getting better every day. It was really nice meeting you, Kaylie, but I think we’re gonna get going now.”

“Okay!” The girl seems oblivious. “Thanks for the picture and the hugs, and for everything else. Have a great night, you two lovebirds!”

She prances away, but Mark barely notices. All at once the restaurant’s mood lighting looks too much like the dim light bulbs in the Strahm’s cellar; the faint music and voices around him sound like sirens and sinister laughter. He can barely hear Ethan calling his name as the wound in his side twinges and the blood starts rushing in his ears. _Fuck fuck FUCK too loud too dark gotta get out getoutgetoutNOW —_

Before he knows he’s even moved, Mark finds himself outside the restaurant in the dusk light of a Los Angeles summer evening. His head is spinning and he thinks he’s dangerously close to seeing his tortellini again as he paces back and forth, trying to breathe. He can’t remember the exercises Dr. VanDrunen taught him — is it breathe in, hold it for three seconds, and exhale for five? Or hold it for five, exhale for seven? Shit, where is he, what day is it, where’s — ?

“Mark!”

Ethan’s here now, pulling him around to the side of the building and mostly out of the public’s view. Mark barely registers the quiet chanting of “You’re okay, you’re safe, nothing’s gonna happen to you, I’m right here, I love you” as he trembles and squeezes his eyes shut against a sudden rush of tears. When a pair of arms winds around him tightly and his face is pressed against a sturdy shoulder, Mark can’t hold back a few tortured sobs.

It could be minutes or hours before the panic attack finally ebbs away. Mark is left panting and shaking in Ethan’s arms, clinging to the smaller man desperately. His head hurts and his eyes are puffy and he feels completely wrung out — it’s been several weeks since he’s had an episode this intense.

 _“Fuck_ that kid,” he hears Ethan spit viciously. There’s real anger in his voice, something Mark’s only heard a handful of times. “You’ve _told_ people not to fucking bring that shit up to you, you’ve practically _begged,_ and then _she_ comes fucking traipsing over to us while we’re fucking eating and —”

“Calm down,” Mark tells him, and the irony of that statement isn’t lost on him. Ethan goes quiet, but Mark can still feel the fury coming off him in waves. “She’s only sixteen. She didn’t know what she was doing.”

“You’re damn fucking right she didn’t,” Ethan snarls, but there’s slightly less heat behind it. “She compared a fucking _fender bender_ to … ugh. Are you okay?”

Mark swallows hard and nods, blinking his eyes open and pulling away just enough to see Ethan’s face. The younger man is clearly still fuming, but there’s concern mixing with the rage in his eyes. Mark quirks an uneven smile. “My hero. As always.”

Ethan rolls his eyes, but the corners of his mouth turn up slightly. “Seriously, are you okay? I gave the waiter my card before I came out here; we can leave as soon as I get it back.”

Mark’s grin fades and he bites his lip, guilt replacing the panic from earlier. He’s ruined not only his and Ethan’s first real date, but his own (expensive) birthday dinner.

Before he can open his mouth, though, Ethan shakes his head. “Don’t you _dare_ apologize, Mark Fischbach, I swear to god,” he says. “That was _ten million_ percent not your fault.”

Mark just shrugs one shoulder and sighs, running a hand through his hair as his pulse stabilizes. “I’m allowed to feel bad for freaking out in the middle of a fancy restaurant and crying all over my hot boyfriend’s expensive suit, okay?” he says, meeting Ethan’s eyes again. “So I am going to apologize. You put so much thought into this, and it was perfect, and my … ‘issues’ got in the way. I’m sorry.”

Ethan looks like he’s about to tell Mark off again, but he seems to think better of it, closing his mouth with a soft clack. Instead, he reaches up to gently rub at the dried tear tracks on Mark’s ruddy cheeks. “It’s okay,” he murmurs, swiping his thumb under Mark’s left eye. “You’re right, it was perfect until that girl showed up.” He chuckles a bit. “It’s still definitely not the worst date I’ve ever been on, though.”

“Not my worst birthday, either,” Mark agrees with a soft laugh of his own, and just like that, the world seems to shift back into proper orbit. He looks into Ethan’s loving riptide eyes and smiles, leaning in for a quick but sincere kiss. As long as he has this, he thinks, he can get through anything.

They walk back inside the restaurant hand-in-hand, and their waiter hands Ethan his credit card and the receipt before they make it back to their table. Ethan signs it right there, gives the man two twenties as a tip, and he and Mark turn around and head out to the car.

“Y’know,” Ethan says as Mark climbs into the passenger’s seat, “this wasn’t all I had planned for tonight.”

Mark looks up at him in surprise, studying the sheepish grin on his boyfriend’s face. “What do you mean?” he asks, genuinely at a loss. “That dinner was more than I expected, more than I deserve. What more could you possibly —”

“Okay, first of all, that food was great but it’s definitely _not_ all you deserve on your birthday.” Ethan reaches into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulls out a pair of simple-looking tickets. “I know you’re probably exhausted from, well … but I got us tickets for the observatory, too, if. If you’re up for it.”

He sounds genuinely uncertain, like he actually thinks Mark would turn down a chance to go to Griffith Observatory on a gorgeous summer night like this. Mark smiles so wide his cheeks ache and leans over the center console to plant a sloppy, adoring kiss on Ethan’s lips. “You’re fucking everything to me, you asshole, you know that?” he asks, laughing a bit at Ethan’s shell-shocked expression. “Of course I wanna go to the observatory with you. C’mon, start the car, let’s _gooo —_ ”

“Okay, okay!” Ethan puts on his seatbelt with a snort and shifts into reverse. “Jeez, you remind me more and more of Chica every day.”

“I take that as the highest compliment.”

 

* * *

 

It’s a short but beautiful drive through Los Feliz and up the winding roads of Mount Hollywood’s southern face. Mark stares out the window and looks past the trees as they fly by, holding one of Ethan’s hands the whole time. When they finally reach the parking lot outside Griffith Observatory, Mark can hardly wait for Ethan to shove four bucks into the payment machine before he’s tugging the younger man towards the domed building. They take a few seconds to marvel at the lit-up Hollywood Sign to the west before continuing on, both of them having seen it several times before.

While Ethan spends his time going from exhibit to exhibit, Mark camps out at the Zeiss telescope. The observatory is surprisingly un-busy for a clear night like this, and Mark takes full advantage of it by looking through the telescope for fifteen minutes straight. His eyes flit from constellation to constellation, distant planet to distant planet, marveling at the size and beauty of it all.

But when he finally takes his face away from the lens and sees Ethan watching him fondly from across the room, jacket and tie discarded and sleeves rolled up to his elbows, Mark can’t escape the thought that his boyfriend is the most singular cosmic entity he’s ever seen.

“Having fun, Galileo?” Ethan asks, clearly amused by Mark’s well-known childlike fascination with space.

“Absolutely,” Mark replies. He waves Ethan over and urges him to look through the telescope himself, helping him locate different stars. Even as Ethan’s eyes become fixed on the moon, Mark’s are fixed on the enraptured expression on Ethan’s face.

Once they’ve made their way through each room of the building, Mark and Ethan head outside and walk along the promenade to the southernmost observation point. The sun’s almost fully set now and the temperature’s dropped, so Mark drapes his own suit jacket over Ethan’s shoulders as they stroll. “You get cold way more easily than I do, and you know it,” he says when the younger man protests.

Finally, they’re looking out at L.A. and the ocean from one of the best views in the world. As much as Mark misses Cincinnati and the observatory there, he can’t deny the chills that race up his spine as California glitters for miles before him. “God, it’s beautiful,” he says softly, gazing at the distant downtown skyline.

“Yeah,” Ethan replies, sounding just as reverent. After a pause, he adds, “Sometimes I still can’t believe I actually fucking made it here.”

Mark turns to look at him and once again sees the wide-eyed 17-year-old kid from Maine who’d backflipped for him and nervously hugged him afterwards. The city lights and stars blur together in those eyes now as Ethan absentmindedly tugs Mark’s jacket tighter around himself, heedless of Mark watching him. He’s radiant, ethereal, _celestial,_ and Mark’s heart beats faster just from the sight of him. He knows Ethan credits some of his success to the exposure afforded by Mark’s channel and friendship, but Mark’s always maintained that Ethan had what it took inside him all along — he just needed a little nudge to really own it.

Standing here at what feels like the top of the world, Mark reaches over and takes the hand of his boyfriend, the kid from Maine with a vlog camera, and falls deeper in love than he’d ever thought possible.

Ethan turns to him and smiles, loving and perfect as always. “It really is a perfect night for this,” he says.

“Move in with me,” Mark replies.

Ethan blinks, then blinks again. Mark thinks he should feel panicked after blurting out something that heavy so blatantly, but he doesn’t.

“What?” Ethan asks, studying Mark’s face closely.

“Move in with me.” Mark’s voice is steady and calm. He takes Ethan’s other hand and squeezes, watching carefully for any signs of distress in Ethan’s eyes. When he finds none, he continues: “You’ve taken such good care of me without being asked to for almost three months. You finish my sentences and make sure I’m taking my meds and love me better than anyone ever has. When you stay over and I wake up next to you in the morning, I wish I could do it every day. I wanna make you breakfast in bed and be there for you when you’re homesick and return every favor you’ve ever paid me, plus some. I know it hasn’t been long, but I already love you more than I thought I could love anything. So.”

Mark pulls Ethan a few inches closer and rests their foreheads together. Ethan’s blue eyes are glittering with unshed tears, looking up at Mark like his eyes hold the Milky Way. “Ethan Mark Nestor-Darling,” Mark murmurs, reaching up to cup the side of Ethan’s face in one shaking hand, “would you move in with me?”

“Yes,” Ethan breathes before Mark even finishes the question. He’s beaming and crying and reaching up to wrap his arms around Mark’s neck. “Yeah, _yes,_ what the fuck, of course I’ll live with you, Mark, I love you —”

He’s cut off by Mark’s lips crashing into his, with all of Los Angeles watching.

 

* * *

 

The half hour drive home — to _their_ home, now — is almost completely void of conversation, but only because both of them are smiling too hard to speak. Mark hasn’t let go of Ethan’s right hand since their kiss on the promenade, but Ethan doesn’t seem to mind, driving easily with his left and shooting giddy smiles at Mark every few minutes.

It doesn’t take them long to get down to business after they stumble inside the house. With their jackets and ties left behind in the car, there’s less unbuttoning to do as they kiss and push-pull each other up the stairs to Mark’s — _their_ — bedroom. The knowledge that he never has to spend another night alone in his bed, missing Ethan, is enough to make Mark moan into the kiss before they even make it to the staircase.

A trail of shirts, socks and suit pants is formed in the hallway leading to the bedroom, and for once Mark forgets about the scars mottling his skin as Ethan holds him tight and secure. “I love you so much,” he whispers between their lips as they close the door and stumble sideways towards the bed.

Ethan grins into the kiss and returns the sentiment, winding his arms tighter around Mark’s waist. When they break the kiss to catch their breath, Ethan’s eyes are dark with intent. “It’s time for your last present, Birthday Boy,” he says, voice rumbling low in his chest in that delicious way Mark still has to get used to. “And you get to pick it. So.”

Biting his lip, Ethan steps back from Mark and flops down onto the bed, head on the pillows and arms above his head in a blatant invitation. His bare chest is flushed and heaving and there’s a tent in the front of his grey boxers already; Mark’s mouth waters at the sight. It’s clear Ethan’s trying to let Mark know anything and everything is on the table for tonight, and Mark intends to take full advantage of that.

“What’ll it be?” Ethan asks, licking his lips and arching his back just enough to be indecent.

Mark just groans and joins him on the bed, climbing over him on all fours. He leans down for a filthy kiss, all tongue and desire, and tries to think past the rush of blood in his ears so he can pick his present.

Ironically, what Mark wants more than anything is probably the opposite of what Ethan’s expecting. Mark can read body language — he knows Ethan thinks he’s about to be worked open and fucked within an inch of his life, which. Definitely isn’t _low_ on Mark’s Hottest Fantasies list. But the fact of the matter is they’ve only been having sex for two weeks, and they’ve shied away from Butt Stuff thus far. He knows Ethan’s never even had fingers inside himself, let alone a dick. On top of that, Mark’s pretty sure if he gets inside that perfect ass tonight, he’ll overdo things and hurt his side again. So. As tempting as this obvious offer is, Mark has to decline it for now.

However. Just because he can’t be the one _doing_ the fucking, doesn’t mean …

“Fuck me,” Mark says, husky and breathless, as he pulls back to look into Ethan’s wide, surprised eyes. He drops his hips down and grinds his clothed cock against Ethan’s in a slow, maddening rhythm as he stammers, “I want — I-I wanna feel you inside me. Could you — I mean, is that something you’d —”

He doesn’t have to ask twice, because Ethan downright _growls_ and yanks him down by the hair for a bitey kiss. Mark moans into that talented mouth and tries to give as good as he’s getting, rolling their hips together a bit harder.

“Yeah,” Ethan murmurs, voice already hoarse with need. He bucks up against Mark and tugs on Mark’s hair just to hear the answering gasp. “Yeah, of course, baby, I can definitely do that for you. _Fuck,_ that’s so hot.”

“Haven’t done it in a long time,” Mark admits, kissing down Ethan’s jaw and neck. He can feel himself starting to blush and curses his own bashfulness. “I … Sean used his fingers, a-and I’ve used mine since then, but, um. Never had a real dick up there.” He bites his lip and pulls back, looking down at Ethan with what he hopes is a pseudo-innocent expression. “Technically, you’ll be my first.”

Ethan _moans_ and drops his head back on the pillow, grinding up against Mark even harder. “Fuck, Mark,” he chokes out, overwhelmed, “if you keep talking like that I’m not even gonna get a chance to take my boxers off.”

“Well, that would certainly ruin the fun.” Mark kisses Ethan again before pushing himself up and rolling onto his back beside him, whimpering a bit at the loss of friction. He closes his eyes once he sees Ethan watching him and drags a hand slowly down his own chest to grip himself through the thin cotton of his black boxer briefs. His hips twitch up and he can’t hold back a desperate little whine, back bowing. “Nnngh —”

Two heartbeats later, Ethan’s on top of Mark, pinning his wrists to the pillows on either side of his head. Mark is greeted by a lustful indigo stare when he opens his eyes. “I’d say you have no idea how hot you look right now, but I know you do,” Ethan says.

Mark smirks and shrugs a little, curing his fingers into his palms as he tests the strength of Ethan’s grip on his wrists. He does know, but it’s always nice to hear it. “Just thought I’d … tempt you a little bit.”

Ethan laughs incredulously and kisses the corner of Mark’s smug mouth, shaking his head. “Consider me tempted,” he says, nuzzling Mark’s nose. “By the way, you should know that this kinda fits perfectly into the plan I already had for tonight.”

Mark blinks up at him, curious. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Ethan kisses him gently but firmly, letting go of one wrist to run his hand down Mark’s chest and injured side. “I’d already planned on making you come more than once, and fucking you stupid should definitely accomplish that.”

Heat floods Mark’s veins at that casual statement, and his hips arch up towards Ethan’s instinctively. Fucking hell — he doesn’t think he’s ever come twice in one night with anyone but himself, but he’s certainly willing to experience Ethan’s best shot at making it happen. “Oh god, yes, _please,”_ he whimpers, squirming a bit in search of friction.

This time Ethan pins Mark’s hips to the bed, tracing his V-line with his thumbs. “Gotta get you naked first,” he mutters, half to himself, before tugging Mark’s underwear down and off.

Shivering in the cool air of the dimly-lit bedroom, Mark sits up and reaches for Ethan’s waistband. “You too,” he breathes, kissing him messily as he hooks his fingers under the elastic and pulls. As soon as Ethan’s sizable erection is freed, Mark licks his own palm and reaches down to grasp it. “God, can’t wait to feel this in me, baby.”

“Nnn, _Mark,”_ Ethan gasps, fucking forward into Mark’s fist a couple times. He kisses Mark hard, hands tangled in those messy dark locks, before pulling back and swatting Mark’s hand away. “Lube, man, where’s —”

“Nightstand, second drawer,” Mark supplies, a thrill of excitement shooting up his spine. _This is actually happening._ He props a couple pillows up behind himself while Ethan rummages through the drawer, then puts one under his hips as well — he thinks he remembers reading somewhere that that makes the angle better. Once he’s comfortable, he relaxes and spreads his legs, trying not to feel self-conscious from how utterly revealed he is. He’s used to using his own fingers on himself, even though it’s been awhile since he has, but he’s only done this once with another person. _I hope I still like it,_ he can’t help but think, heart pounding with nerves.

It takes Ethan a minute to dig the tube of KY out of the nightstand. When he does, he turns back around — only to be greeted by the sight of Mark spread out for him like a sacrifice, blood-dark cock heavy and leaking on his stomach, broad chest rising and falling rapidly. Ethan’s jaw falls open and he stares for several long seconds, taking in every inch of tan skin and quivering muscles. “It’s unfair how gorgeous you are, y’know that?” he says finally, crawling back and kneeling between Mark’s spread knees.

Mark blushes darker than he already was and reaches up, pulling Ethan down for a slow, meaningful kiss. He can see and feel the tension in those lean shoulders, and he wants to calm them both down a bit before they continue.

After a few minutes of steady kissing, Mark is practically a puddle against the pillows and Ethan seems a bit more confident. They break apart, panting, and the younger man flicks open the cap of the lube.

As he’s slicking up his fingers, Ethan swallows hard and looks down at Mark’s waiting and willing ass. “You’re gonna have to, like, talk me through some of it at first,” he says, sounding embarrassed.

Mark nods and licks his lips. “I know, it’s okay,” he reassures, trying to think of the simplest way he can describe anal fingering without bursting out laughing. “Uhm … I guess it’s pretty similar to, like, a vag, but it just takes a little longer to … loosen up. And lube is pretty much your best friend — even if you think you’re using enough, I might ask for more at some point.”

Ethan nods solemnly, hanging on Mark’s every word. He looks so serious that Mark almost does laugh. “Do I, like … spread it around … ?”

“At first, yeah.” Mark shifts his hips a bit on the pillow propping them up. “Don’t rush. And it kinda helps if you — I swear I’m being serious, here — i-it would help me relax if you, um. Sucked me a bit while you were doing it.”

Even though he’s expecting to be lightheartedly smacked, Mark is surprised to see Ethan nodding again. “Yeah, I think I’ve seen that in a couple pornos,” he says, once again so casual it knocks the breath out of Mark completely. A dirty smirk replaces the anxious frown on his face. “Might help with the whole making-you-come-twice thing, too.”

“Y-Yeah, maybe,” Mark says, choked, and his cock twitches against his belly. “Um. I-I kinda, like, lose my mind a little bit when my prostate is hit, so. I think you’ll be able to tell when you find it.”

“Noted.” Ethan takes a deep breath and hunkers down a bit between Mark’s legs. “Alright, so … guess I’ll start with …”

Without another word, Ethan sucks the head of Mark’s cock in his mouth and presses two slick, cold fingertips to his entrance at the same time. The contrasting sensations make Mark jerk a bit, and he yelps, throwing his head back for a second. “G-Good plan,” he gasps, watching the focused look on Ethan’s red face as he sucks him. Mark’s seen it before, but it’s still one of the hottest things he’s ever beheld.

After a minute or so of rubbing and sucking, Ethan must determine that Mark’s relaxed enough for the first finger. He pulls off Mark’s cock to catch his breath, meets Mark’s dark eyes with his own for a moment, then looks back down as he slowly pushes his fingertip past the tight ring of muscle.

Mark whines — it’s always a little uncomfortable at first — and he’s about to urge Ethan to continue when Ethan says, a note of wonder in his voice, “Holy shit, I just shoved my finger up Markiplier’s ass.”

He looks up at Mark, seemingly in awe. Their eyes meet, the corner of Ethan’s mouth twitches, and before either of them knows it, they’re breaking into overwhelmed laughter. Ethan buries his face in Mark’s hip and Mark throws his head back, cackling at the ceiling as tears of mirth start to stream down his face. “Wha — What’s up m-my _Cranky Crew!”_ he chokes out, laughing so hard his side starts to ache. “It’s Ethan, a-and today we — today I’m p-playing _Let’s Finger Markiplier!”_

Ethan’s laughter turns to howling, and he weakly slaps Mark’s thigh as he shakes his head. “Th-The first VR experience of its kind!” he manages, and Mark can’t breathe. “These graphics, I mean, _wow!”_

It’s several minutes before they both calm down enough to catch their breaths. Mark swipes at the tears on his cheeks and pulls Ethan up for a giggly kiss, heart swelling with adoration. “I fucking love you,” he says, smiling almost too wide to keep his lips pressed to Ethan’s. He’s never laughed like that during sex before. It’s almost too awesome to be real.

“I love you too,” Ethan replies immediately. He still has his lubed fingers hovering between Mark’s legs, and when he breaks the kiss, he re-applies some of the slick. “Even though you just did my intro during sex. Are you ready to — ?”

“Yeah, go ahead,” Mark says, still beaming. He notices absently they’ve both gone a little soft, but he’s sure that’ll be remedied fairly quickly.

He’s relaxed enough after his laughing fit that Ethan’s index finger slides all the way in on the first go. Breath hitching, Ethan looks up at him to gauge his reaction. “Still okay?”

“Mm-hmm.” Mark shifts his hips a bit and shudders at the sensations crackling up his spine. His cock jumps, and so does Ethan’s. “Keep going, baby.”

Ethan nods, kisses the inside of Mark’s thigh, and starts pushing his finger in and out slowly. He takes Mark’s cock back in his mouth too, and Mark can’t hold back the moan he lets out at that. “Yeah, that’s — _ah_ — that’s it,” he breathes, reaching down with one hand to wind his fingers in Ethan’s chestnut hair. “So good, so- _oh_ good.”

Mark’s ready for two fingers rather quickly after that, and Ethan starts scissoring them gently without Mark even telling him to. He’s just licking at Mark’s cock now, little kitten licks that contrast dramatically with the borderline harsh thrusting of his long fingers. Mark lets out breathy sighs with each exhale, working his hips in tiny circles, and it doesn’t take long for the two of them to find the right angle.

The instant Ethan’s fingertips brush Mark’s prostate, Mark’s hips fly up off the mattress. _“There!”_ he cries, tossing his head against the pillows. “There, r-right there, Ethan, keep —”

“I got you,” Ethan says, and his blue eyes look about five shades darker. He wraps one arm around Mark’s left thigh and hooks Mark’s knee up over his own shoulder as he speeds up the pace of his fingers, making sure to hit that perfect spot on every push in.

“Ethan, E-Ethan, holy shit, oh fuck yeah, oh _fuck,”_ Mark babbles. He’s practically fucking himself down on Ethan’s fingers now, white heat pooling between his hips as he moves. God, this feels amazing. “Don’t stop, don’t — pleasepleaseplease, _ah_ — !”

“So hot.” Ethan’s eyes are fixed on Mark’s face now, his gaze unwavering even as he slips a third finger in. He keeps curling them in just the right way, a devastating come-hither motion that sends fire licking up Mark’s spine. “Feel good, Mark?”

Mark can only whimper and nod, frantic, as he feels the telltale tightening starting in his balls. He’s about to tell Ethan to stop, that he doesn’t want to come until Ethan’s inside him, but then he remembers Ethan’s promise and it only ratchets him higher. “Sososo good, I — oooh, _oh,_ I’m —”

“You’re what?” Ethan’s focused face is suddenly looming over Mark’s leaking dick again, his breath buffeting over the head in such a way it makes Mark want to cry. “What is it, babe?”

Jesus. Ethan’s brand of dirty talk could be enough to send Mark into cardiac arrest. “I’m c-close,” Mark finally manages to bite out between pants and sobs. He grips the pillow under his head, knuckles white. “I — touch me, please, _nnnngh,_ I can’t — ohmygod —”

Ethan shakes his head. “Nope,” he says, before leaning in and sucking Mark’s cock down again. He digs the nails of his free hand into Mark’s thick thigh and hollows his cheeks in the most perfect, soul-crushing way, eyes still drilling into Mark’s.

It only takes about five seconds for this cascade of sensations to send Mark careening off the edge. He lets out a pathetic wail and clenches tight around Ethan’s fingers as he comes hard in Ethan’s mouth, writhing and twisting against the sheets and pillows. It’s bone-deep and lasts for what feels like an hour.

The aftershocks rack Mark’s frame like lightning strikes, leaving him a shivering, twitchy ball of exposed nerve endings. He closes his eyes and goes limp against the pillows, moaning weakly at every minute movement of Ethan’s three fingers still inside him. It feels like almost too much now, but at the same time, Mark thinks he’d cry if Ethan left him empty.

Gentle kisses rain down on his flushed cheeks all of a sudden, and Ethan whispers, “Shh, I’ve got you, you’re okay. Hottest thing I’ve ever seen. Holy hell, Mark.” A steady hand starts petting Mark’s side, soothing the dull ache that’s built up there over the last ten minutes or so. “You good?”

Mark swallows hard and nods, blinking his eyes open to look up at his love. “So good,” he says, reaching up to wrap his heavy arms around Ethan’s neck. A lazy smile spreads across his face as he catches his breath. “H-Haven’t come like that in forever. You sure you’ve never done that before?”

“Not to a dude, no.” Ethan brushes a few sweat-damp strands of hair away from Mark’s forehead and kisses him between his eyebrows. “Lemme know when you’re ready to keep going. More where that came from.”

“Mmmm. Just kiss me for now, maybe.”

Ethan complies without a word. As he licks into Mark’s mouth, Mark gasps at the taste of himself on Ethan’s tongue. It’s enough to make his spent dick give a valiant twitch already.

A few more minutes of thorough, calming kissing, and Mark thinks he’s ready to keep going. He tells Ethan as much, and Ethan just grins before carefully starting to move his fingers again. Mark hisses at the feeling, but his hips roll with the movement anyway.

 _I’m almost thirty,_ Mark thinks hysterically as he feels himself getting hard again. _I should NOT be able to get it up again this fast. Are you a fucking wizard, Ethan?_

Since Ethan is too preoccupied with kissing every scar on Mark’s sweaty chest and licking at his nipples with a clever tongue, Mark doesn’t get the chance to ask.

After another five minutes, the oversensitivity has worn off and Mark is almost fully hard. Ethan’s fingers are slipping in and out of him with hardly any resistance — that must mean he’s ready. Biting his lip, Mark pulls Ethan’s head up gently by the hair and meets his eyes. “I-I think I’m ready,” he says, heat gathering in his stomach again. “Want you to fuck me now, baby.”

“Thank god,” Ethan breathes, leaning down for a hungry kiss. “My hand’s cramping up and I’m gonna go crazy if I don’t get some kind of — _fuck!”_

Reading his mind, Mark reaches down and wraps a strong hand around Ethan’s neglected cock. He’s throbbing and leaking and hard enough to pound nails — Mark shudders at the thought of finally being filled with every inch. “Sorry,” he croons, wincing a bit when Ethan removes his fingers. “Hope I can make it up to you.”

Ethan gasps and thrusts into Mark’s fist a couple times. “I’m p-pretty sure you will.”

The two of them readjust their positions slightly so Mark’s more comfortably propped up on the pillows with Ethan looming over him on all fours. Shivering at the sight of his boyfriend looking so desperate and commanding, Mark hooks a leg over Ethan’s waist and cants his hips up in an invitation. “C’mon,” he begs, hoping his nervousness is masked well enough. “Need you, want you, please.”

Ethan hesitates for a couple seconds, studying Mark’s face closely. “You gotta tell me if I’m hurting you,” he says, and Mark knows how serious he is. “Don’t put up with pain just ‘cuz you think it feels good for me. Okay?”

Mark nods, craning up to kiss Ethan tenderly. “I promise,” he whispers. His side isn’t super sore right now since he’s mostly been lying back and letting Ethan do the work thus far. “Now come _on,_ Eth, I’m ready.”

After another few seconds of mental preparation, Ethan nods and takes a deep breath. He drops his hips down, hikes Mark’s other leg up around his waist, and reaches down to guide himself to Mark’s entrance. “O-Okay,” he breathes, seemingly to himself. “Try to relax, okay?”

“I’m practically liquid already, but okay,” Mark quips. He closes his eyes, steadies his breathing, and lets out a soft _oh!_ when the head of Ethan’s cock breaches him.

Ethan makes a sound like he’s been punched in the gut. “Holy fucking shit,” he whispers, pushing in another couple inches. “H-Holy _fucking_ shit, Mark —”

Mark’s digging his blunt nails into Ethan’s shoulders and holding on for dear life, trembling and whimpering. He’s never felt anything like this — Ethan’s cock is hot and hard with just enough give to keep it from being completely overwhelming. It’s throbbing inside Mark, splitting him open, filling him up in the most incredible way. It takes all of Mark’s concentration to remember to breathe.

Ethan pauses when he bottoms out, groaning deep in his throat. Mark forces his own eyes open to look up at the younger man’s face, needing to see his expression, and it doesn’t disappoint: Ethan’s cheeks are pink, his eyes are wide, and his mouth is hanging open, gulping in carefully measured breaths. “Y-You okay up there?” Mark asks, hardly recognizing his own strained voice.

Ethan swallows and nods, licking his lips. “Yeah, I — I think so.” Leaning down, he rests his sweaty forehead against Mark’s and cups Mark’s face in one hand. “You feel fucking incredible, Mark, you have no idea.”

“So do you.” Mark grips Ethan’s shoulders tighter and cranes up for a breathless kiss. He’s slurring his words and he doesn’t care. “F-Feel so fuckin’ big inside me, so good, need you to — n-need you to move.”

“You sure?” Mark just nods, ardent and needy. “Okay. Lemme know if it’s too much.”

The slow, torturous drag of Ethan’s cock slowly pulling out of him is enough to make Mark keen already. When it plunges back in, unforgiving, he lets out a noise somewhere between a sob and a shout. “Holyfuckingfuck _Ethan_ —!”

“Oh god.” Ethan’s hips start snapping forward, fucking Mark with urgency, and Mark’s eyes squeeze shut. “Ooooh _god,_ that’s — I —”

“Uh-huh,” Mark says in agreement, but it comes out as a drawn-out whine. He clamps his thighs around Ethan’s waist and holds on tight, crying out when his aching cock is trapped between their stomachs. “Fuckmefuckmefuckme — !”

Ethan drops down lower and fixes his mouth to the junction of Mark’s neck and shoulder as he starts to swivel his hips on every push in. The head of his cock grazes Mark’s prostate the same instant he sinks his teeth into Mark’s neck, and it transports Mark to a different dimension.

“Jesus _Christ!”_ Mark wails, throwing his head back and sobbing as he starts to meet Ethan’s thrusts with his own. “Theretherethere, _right there_ , don’t — _aah!”_

Muffling his own moans against Mark’s neck, Ethan starts driving against that spot with all his strength. His hips slap obscenely against the backs of Mark’s thighs and it’s all Mark can do to keep from screaming at the avalanche of sensations crashing over him. He can’t even speak in syllables anymore, a slew of _oh_ and _ah_ and occasional mangled attempts at Ethan’s name streaming from his mouth.

“Mark,” Ethan chokes out a minute later. Mark forces his eyes open and is greeted by Ethan staring down at him in awe. The younger man looks about two seconds away from blowing his load, and his voice corroborates that. “M-Mark, I — I’m close, I-I can’t, are you …”

Mark nods, frantic, yanking Ethan down for a sloppy kiss. “T-Touch me,” he gasps, “touch me, _please,_ baby, _ah,_ m-make me come, make me —”

There’s a ruthless hand around his cock two seconds later, jacking him fast and rough, pushing him closer and closer and _closer_ —

“Fucking do it,” Ethan growls, kissing Mark hard and fucking him harder. He’s making soft, almost pained noises with each thrust now, clearly dangling off the edge himself. His fingers work Mark’s cock expertly, thumbing the head, squeezing and releasing. “Come for me — _o-ooh_ — come on my cock, baby, c’mon, l-let go, _come.”_

It’s too much.

Mark’s pretty sure he screams loud enough to rattle the bedroom windows as he arches off the bed and comes his brains out. White streaks paint his chest and stomach but he doesn’t even notice, writhing and nearly convulsing as he sobs and shakes through his orgasm. He can vaguely feel himself clenching hard around Ethan, and it must feel pretty good, because the younger man cries out and starts fucking into him with shallow, disjointed thrusts. “Oh oh oh _ooh_ —”

“Fuck me, Ethan,” Mark whimpers, somehow coherent enough to form words. He holds Ethan close and kisses whatever flushed patch of skin he can reach. “God, you’re so good, f-fuck me so well, keep going, fill me up, you’re almost —”

_“Maaark!”_

Ethan only lasts a few more seconds before he’s going rigid in Mark’s arms and coming hard, shouting at the top of his voice against Mark’s shoulder. Mark can feel Ethan pulsing inside him and wet heat filling him up and it makes him wish he could go for another round.

Time happens in flashes for awhile after that. There’s Ethan kissing Mark once they’ve both stopped trembling; there’s Ethan gently pulling out of Mark and giggling breathlessly at the hilarious face Mark makes; there’s Mark throwing an arm over his face and taking deep breaths to counter the ache in his side. At one point, Ethan returns to the bed — _when did he get up?_ — with a warm, damp washcloth and uses it to clean Mark off. Everything feels like it’s happening underwater, and Mark just lies there in his pile of pillows and soaks in every moment as best he can.

“That was incredible,” Ethan murmurs when they’re cuddled up together under the sheets twenty minutes later. He kisses the top of Mark’s head and pulls him as close as he can. “I mean … goddamn.”

“You’re telling me,” Mark chuckles, voice still hoarse. Shifting a bit, he winces at the weird ache between his legs. “Think you fucked me into the afterlife. I definitely saw Jesus.”

“Pretty sure that’s impossible, but I’ll take it as a compliment.” Ethan’s fingertips dance up and down Mark’s arm under the thick comforter. “I love you. And I can’t wait to move in with you.”

In the midst of all the passion and lust, Mark had completely forgotten about everything else that had happened tonight — the party, the restaurant, the observatory. Remembering it brings tears to his eyes, and he sits up a bit to look down at Ethan’s still-flushed face. “You’re moving in with me,” he whispers, like it’s the first time he’s learning it. “I … I love you so much, Ethan, I love you —”

Ethan just kisses him, slow and steady and earnest. Mark kisses back and tries to stop the “I’m-so-in-love-I-don’t-know-how-to-handle-it” tears from leaking past his closed eyelids. He manages to keep most of them at bay, but a few escape to drip down onto Ethan’s cheeks. An expert in Mark’s tears by now, Ethan wicks them away with gentle fingers and loving kisses.

Once the kiss breaks off, both boys are completely exhausted. Mark rests his head back on Ethan’s chest and sighs, more content than he can ever remember being. “Sing me something?” he asks, not an unusual request. Ethan’s only reply is the opening bars of “Can’t Help Falling in Love.”

It takes some effort, but Mark manages to sing a couple lines back to him before he drifts off. _“Take my hand … Take my whole life too … For I can’t help …”_

 _“ … Falling in love … with … you.”_ Ethan kisses Mark’s forehead, and Mark is out like a light.

 

* * *

 

Moving is … hectic, to say the least. Spencer is at least excited to explore his new (much larger) living space, immediately bonding with Chica as they dart around the backyard. Mark decides to repurpose one of the spare rooms upstairs into a new recording room for Ethan, right across from Mark’s. All of Ethan’s clothes fit in the disused half of Mark’s closet where Amy’s used to be, and they elect to ditch most of Ethan’s cookware in favor of Mark’s. The movie posters and other wall art look great in the bedroom and living room — it really makes the house feel more like Ethan’s, which warms Mark’s heart considerably.

The whole process takes almost three weeks. At the end of the final moving day when Ethan’s officially terminated the lease on his apartment, they curl up together on the living room couch with chicken and dumplings and re-watch _Infinity War_ for the fifth time. Spencer is curled up at Mark’s feet, and Chica is draped over Ethan’s lap. It’s perfect.

For the first time since before Boston, Mark feels truly at peace.

 

—————— 


End file.
